Page 331 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

seeing him like this,

it makes me sad.

I don’t know why, but it makes me sad.

I take his hand, the one that’s been snapping bottle caps and throwing rags, and thread a gold link through the cuff.

“Hey, look at me.”

And he does.

“For you, it’s not enough.”

I press a kiss to the pulse point at his wrist before snapping the gold shut.

A shaky, lopsided grin flickers on his lips, an attempt at his old charm, but that dies before it can reach the fog in his eyes.

I lean sideways and swipe up the cosmetic bag. His wet stare never leaves me as I spritz and comb back his hair.

Then he blinks away, glancing out the window as if he needs a second to collect himself. A nervous laugh slips out of him, and he goes to push his hand through his hair, glancing back at me, not sure whether to break the contract and kiss me, fuck me, or simply fall to his knees.

I smack his hand away.

“Uh-uh. You’ll mess it up.”

Another laugh crashes in his throat when I slide down between his thighs, my knees landing on the lambswool floor mats.

There, in the cramped space,

I reach for the laces of his boots,

untie them,

feel the warmth of his foot in my hand.

I undo his belt next with a clink,

slip it off,

popping the button,

easing down the zipper.

Outside, the city lights blur the night.

But inside this car, Andrew’s sliding out of bar-stained pants and into ones tailored for a prince.

He watches me from above as I slide his foot into the brand-new leather shoe,

a Cinderella story told in reverse.

And when I’m done, I finally look up,

resting my chin on his thigh.

He slides his hand through my hair,

brushes his knuckle around the edge of my face, drags his thumb across the pout of my lip.